The quiet streets came to an uproar by midnight the night of December 16, 2077. Bodies were strewn across the street and there were ambulances blocking the roads. People came out their houses to see what had just occurred on their normally peaceful street. All of this seemed to be an accident just waiting to happen. None of these streets were plowed by big truck companies that normally snowplowed in the city. Then a freezing night would approach and the roads would turn to cold hard ice. Two hours passed and the night seems to quiet down. Though the houses down the street erupt with light and the voices questioning what had just happened. But one house had stayed quiet the whole night. No lights came out of the dusty shades and no voices echoed through the thin walls. The next day people would knock on doors and question people on what they saw or what they thought happened. The last door those people would knock on would be the address of 2345 West Maple Lane, South Virginia 44356. No one would answer and they would all walk in to a see small house; bare.
Lucille Declor was not a criminal at heart. She grew up in a normal city, with normal parents. She had never spoken much when she was younger. Lucille hadn't been the girl at school who knew everything, or everyone. She was the girl with the nerdy glasses and braces who was always in the spelling and geography bees. But what she had done the night of December 16, 2077 could not be mistaken for an accident to the officials. Now though it may have been dark the officials knew it was not an accident by how none of the cars had slid or flipped. These mini vans and Honda's were all just smashed into one another. Now what they had to find out was how to track down the criminal.
' It wasn't me. Ok maybe it was me but I still didn't mean to do it. How was I supposed to know there would be a dozen cars coming down the street that night? I hadn't meant to kill all of those people. I didn't know I could control what people did. I just wanted to make them feel scared and afraid of what might happen next. I couldn't tell you, journal anything that I made them do, because the ways that they died were horrible. How could I have done that to ordinary people I didn't even know? Journal, I know that if you could talk you would tell me to stop writing all of this junk on your page and to go and turn myself in right now; but I can't die or go to jail. I know that there is no way I would ever get out of jail even if I had bail. The death chair was another option. They would kill me the way that I had killed all of them. Painful, gruesome, horrible deaths I made them all suffer through. I could tell you my whole life long story on why this had happened. But to shorten it up for you I had a horrible childhood. My mother and father were never home and even when they were no one knew I was there. So journal I wanted revenge at 20 years. I wanted to take it out on anyone and everyone. I'm so so sorry but I can't take back what I did.'
Lucille turned into the Tresh Hotel. Dirty and ugly from the outside many had only dared to take a look at this place and drive off again. Unfortunately this was the only place the Lucille could afford. What awaited her inside was for her to find out.
The door creaked open as Lucille walked in. Looking down she saw the roaches that scattered at the light. No one was at the check in desk so she took a key from behind the desk and went to room 100 where the key was supposed to unlock the door. Lucille stepped inside only to find a bed unmade and moths attached to the only window in her room. This is what Lucille got for being a criminal. She would never feel right about what she had done. What could she do though? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Lucille lay down and dreamt.
Spiraling out of control. Tumbling toward the center of the earth. Wait, no, this was not the center. This was the rough patch of ground that she lay on while waking up. Sh*t. There was a dead rat sitting just feet away from her. Her hands felt like jello and her legs were numb. The carpet smelled like feet with mold. Gosh, I hate my life. She slowly lifted her head and looked at the clock. It was 5:30 am in the morning. "I could have had a warm shower, put on fresh makeup and a made a chocolate latte. Nope; because you decided to go and kill all of those people. You stupid.. Stupid…………" Then there was a muffle/snore. Frozen into place. The ground felt like it was giving away. Slowing and quietly she got to her knees. Right on top of her bed was a old, white bearded man. Who was he and what was he doing in my room? Technically it wasn't my room since all I had was the key and I didn't pay for it; but I was still in the room. What was she to do? " Pack up your stuff and get out of here. Sleep in your car. Take the food and water from the fridge and slowly pull of the comforter and leave!!," She silently whispered to herself. He stirred and awoke with a start. All that she could do was stare at him. " GGOooooddd mooornining…." he said groggily to her. He was drunk and she knew it. Slowly, she lifted herself off the ground.
